C29 No please

Sofia's POV

Alex walked closer, my forehead beaded with sweats of terror.

"You...you really shouldn't do this..." I begged as he grabbed my neck and Leyla giggled behind him like my life was some sort of comedy show for her.

"W—what, are you doing," I begged as he continued dragging me outside.

"You loved it when I was beaten by my father in front of these people don't you?" He growled as he dragged me outside.

I let out a wince as he stepped on my fingers that were trying to hold him back from dragging me.

"N—no—no please..." I begged barely able to complete my words as he dipped my head ununderwaterhis hands pressing down hard enough that I wasn't able to catch, hold, or even attempt a breath.

My lungs were burning, screaming for air as I thrashed against his grip. The icy water swallowed me whole, my mind spiraling into darkness. My hands clawed at his arms, but he was unrelenting, his anger fueling his strength.

I could hear muffled laughter—Leyla's, taunting and cruel. My vision blurred, and panic surged through my veins. My body convulsed, desperate for oxygen, but Alex didn’t let go.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he yanked me up. I gasped violently, coughing and choking, water spilling from my mouth. My chest heaved, the burning sensation in my lungs unbearable.

"Now you know what it feels like," Alex spat, his eyes cold, void of the boy I once knew.

Tears mixed with the water streaming down my face as I struggled to catch my breath. "P-please... I—I never wanted that to happen to you..."

He scoffed, yanking me by the hair. "Liar," he seethed. "You stood there and watched. Now it's your turn."

He pushed me down again.

This time, the darkness welcomed me faster, my consciousness slipped and the urge to even struggle evaded me.

My fingers clawed at his, desperately, hoping that he'd let me go and slowly my arms lost their strength.

My consciousness weaned and there was Leyla in the corner who couldn't be more happy.

"Do you plan on killing her Alex? Looks like she's about to die," She said, before he yanked my head from the water.

A burning cough racked through my lungs as I tried to breathe.

My eyes burned with tears, hot and desperate. My eyes were slurring off black dots and the bang of my head against the cold tile was the last thing I felt before going unconscious.

.

.

.

"Miss Sofia,"

"Thank goodness, you're awake," a familiar voice called filled my ears as I tried to blink my burning eyes open.

"W—where..." I tried to speak, but my voice got caught in my throat, raspy and burning.

"We're in Master Zack's room," She said and I darted my slurry gaze to her face.

"Whose person's room did you say we are in?" I asked again, trying to get a better view of the room.

"Master Zack's room, he's back, he caught you when Mr Alex threw your body into the pool when you passed out," She explained.

But the thought of the pool made my body begin to rack with uncontrollable shivers. The memory of the icy water, the suffocating darkness, and Alex’s unrelenting grip sent fresh waves of panic coursing through me. My breathing hitched, and I curled my fingers into the soft sheets beneath me, grounding myself in reality.

"Easy, Miss Sofia," my maid—rae, I finally recognized—whispered soothingly.

"You're safe now. Master Zack won’t let anything happen to you."

Zack. The name sent a different kind of shiver through me, one laced with unease and something else I couldn’t quite place. He was back? When had he returned? And why was I in his room?

"Where...where is he?" I croaked, my throat raw from inhaling water.

"Master Zack had to step out for a moment, but he’ll be back soon. He was furious when he saw what they did to you."

I swallowed hard. That didn't surprise me. Zack had always been unpredictable, his anger a force of nature when unleashed.

I shifted slightly, wincing as pain laced through my body. My limbs felt like lead, my head throbbing from where it had hit the tiles. But beyond the physical pain, a deeper ache settled in my chest—Alex's betrayal cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

The door creaked open, and a familiar presence filled the room before I even saw him. Zack. His aura was undeniable—dark, commanding, and intense.

"You’re awake," his voice was quiet, yet it carried a weight that sent a chill down my spine.

I turned my head slowly, meeting his gaze. His stormy eyes flickered over my face, lingering on the bruises, the remnants of my suffering. Something unreadable passed through his expression—anger, concern, something else I couldn't quite decipher.

For the first time since waking up, I wasn’t sure which terrified me more—Alex's hatred or Zack’s unreadable emotions.

My eyes darted in-between the blood at the corner of his lips and his bruised knuckles.

"Are...are you okay?" I muttered and he scoffed, as he walked towards me, playing with his fingers.

Zack’s scoff sent a fresh wave of unease through me. His stormy eyes were locked on mine, unreadable yet burning with something dark and consuming. He stepped closer, his fingers flexing at his sides.

"You’re really asking if I’m okay, Sofia?" His voice was low, almost deadly.

My breath hitched.

"Are you so fucking stupid?" he growled, his words sharp and laced with something I couldn’t quite place—anger, frustration, something deeper.

I flinched. The rage rolling off him in waves was suffocating. His knuckles were bruised, the skin split and raw. Blood smeared the corner of his lips.

"You could’ve died," he seethed, running a hand through his tousled hair before letting it drop.

I opened my mouth, but no words came. I had no answer.

Zack suddenly moved, too fast for my sluggish mind to process. His hand wrapped around my wrist—not painfully, but firm enough that my breath caught. His grip was warm, steady, and yet, it sent a ripple of fear through me.

"You’re shaking," he muttered, more to himself than me. His thumb brushed absently over my pulse point, as if grounding himself. His grip tightened for a second before he abruptly let go, exhaling sharply.

I swallowed, my throat raw. "Zack…"

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and his expression shifted. The anger didn’t vanish, but something else flickered beneath it—something protective, something terrifying in its intensity.